


This is for you

by Iarwain



Category: Fitz and the Fool Trilogy - Robin Hobb, Realm of the Elderlings - Robin Hobb
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Multi, after assassin's fate, everyone is alive and well and happy, everything is fine, just fluff and happiness, love and love, non binary characters, there will be babies and weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 23:48:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iarwain/pseuds/Iarwain
Summary: Fix-it happening at the end of Assassin's Fate.Everyone lives, nobody dies. How to save the Fitz and the Fool? I will make everyone live in the Mountain Kingdom and be happy.





	This is for you

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by a poem by Ashe Vernon called "This is for you", that I will be quoting each chapter.  
> This is for you, guys, all of you. I love you.  
> Check out their work on their website : [latenightcornerstore](http://latenightcornerstore.com/)

  


#### 

This is for the ache in your chest.

  


* * *

Red. The world is red. Waves and veils of crimson swam in my vision. I don’t know if my eyes are open. I don’t know if I have eyes anymore. Is this how the Stone is supposed to feel? Maybe I am inside it. Maybe we are inside it. I try to grope in my mind for Nighteyes. He is supposed to be here with me. And the Fool? I don’t remember. Consciousness flows back to me, slowly, creeping. I try to fight it. I am in the Stone. I am dead to the world. Gone. Like my King, like Verity. Can stone dragons talk between them? I don’t think they do. I can’t feel Nighteyes anywhere. Panic surges in me. Where is he? Why? Could it be that we are all in the Wolf Stone, but separated? How could this happen? I feel a hand, something, squeezing my hand. I feel something damp on my cheek. Feel? Hand? Cheek? I shouldn’t have those! I am a wolf! I try to snarl but I can’t seem to be moving. What is happening? Nighteyes? Fool?

* * *

The road was going on before them, a dark stain against the green of the forest. Cutting through it like a dark purpled scar would stand out on skin. Many riders were stretched along it. Some people were walking. Horses were carrying tents, foods. In the middle of them, a palanquin was cautiously being carried. Lant was riding behind it, his head bowed, trying to block the damned whispers he heard all through the day. He knew everyone was suffering from it. People were agitated, some often flailing, acting like they were trying to chase imaginary insects. Some others were not even affected by it. Like Perseverance. Or some of the soldiers. Spark told him. She told Lant she herself was having a hard time, but it was their duty to suffer through it. Until the end of the journey. They had to do it for them. 

Lant looked at the palanquin. It was surrounded by the Queen Mother herself, the Skillmistress, the whole royal nobility gathered around it. He himself among it, he mused, even if he was just a bastard of a bastard. He tried to picture how he was related to Nettle, the Skillmistress, for a while but failed. Cousins of sorts, he guessed. And to little Bee? 

Looking at her, his stomach churned and he went pale. She was riding in front of Kettricken. She had been crying for a while, the first days, but had stopped now. Since they left, she had been clinging to the previous Queen like she was her lifeline. Kettricken was riding as if she wasn’t an old lady. Lant cringed while looking at her. He himself was hurting from his previous wounds, he couldn’t imagine what someone her age must be feeling, she must have been so tired. But her bearing was strong, head high and back straight, though her shoulders looked tense and her features were worn, tired. 

He guessed they all looked like that after what happened. Nettle was the one that looked the worst. She was riding as close as one could to the palanquin. She was crying silently all day and her face was twisted as if she couldn’t decide if she was feeling more anger or anguish. Or maybe it was only the Skill Road that was messing with her. Lant didn’t know. He had tried to talk to her a little while back, but she only looked at him with eyes so dark that he had to turn away. Fitz had glared at Lant like that many times in the past, but it was nowhere near what Nettle was capable of. Maybe, thought Lant, Fitz had been trying to mimic Nettle’s glare, or perhaps it originated from someone else entirely. Perhaps it was a Farseer thing.  
Lant tried to glare coldly at the back of the sleight carrying the palanquin. 

“Lant? What’s wrong? Is it the road again?” Spark asked urgently, appearing at his side, making him jump. She had the habit of doing that, he used to find it both exciting and endearing. Now, he was too exhausted to care.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” he replied. “I was worrying about Nettle.” 

Spark sighed and answered. “She’s a strong woman. She will be ok.” Spark poked Lant on the arm and switched to a reassuring tone. “She knows you care about her and that you are here for her if she needs you. Don’t push it.” 

Lant offered the best smile he could manage under those circumstances. He raised his hand to touch Spark’s cheek, but shouts coming from the palanquin stopped his gesture halfway. 

“Don’t touch him! What are you doing? Get away from him!” Nettle was standing up on her horse stirrups, her whole body leaning to the inside of the big drapes surrounding the sick bed inside on the sleigh, and shouting. Probably at the Fool, or Amber, or whatever her name really was. They had been riding in the palanquin with Fitz since the beginning of the trip, not leaving his side. Even with the risk of being contaminated by the Silver that was coating Fitz, or by the worms that were still eating him up.

Amber’s shrill traveled through the heavy drapes to his ears. Lant exchanged a worried look with Spark, then pushed his horse onward, getting close to Nettle. He heard Amber screaming. “He moved! His lips moved! He was trying to speak! I saw him!”

Nettle’s face was a mask of horror. “Lord Golden please, you are putting yourself in danger, don’t touch him! Get back!” She made a move as if to grab Amber but stopped herself.  
Lant took hold of Nettle’s arm. She turned her head to stare at him, fury in her eyes.  
Lant whispered urgently. “Please, Nettle, don’t risk touching him either. You, get back. Let them.”

Nettle glared at Lant for a little while longer then slowly moved her horse away from the sleigh. Lant looked around. The soldiers surrounding them were in alarm, all watching, especially those belonging to Nettle’s coterie. But none of them made a move to come closer. This wasn’t the weirdest thing they had seen these last days, not in the least.  
Kettricken had gotten closer to the sleigh too, Bee still sitting between her arms, her big blue eyes wide in shock. Kettricken’s lips were turned down. Looking at both of them standing close together, Lant could see the mountain folk’s blood in Bee now. The similarities. Nettle exchanged a nod with Kettricken and took a big breath, scrubbed her eyes to remove the tears still piling there. Then she lifted the drapes around the palanquin a bit.

“Lord Golden?” Nettle called, loud enough to be heard by them, but not so loud that the soldiers could hear her. “He moved?”

A broken sob answered her, followed by some sniffles. Suddenly Amber replied, their voice sounding happier than Lant thought it would have been. “He moved.” They sniffled again. “He was moving his lips as if he was trying to speak. I saw his eyes move. He must have seen me! I’m sure he saw me!” Amber’s voice turned to shrills again. Lant cringed. Since that night, Amber has been either catatonic or hysterical. If he hadn’t traveled for months with them, and heard Spark’s stories, Lant would have thought they had lost their mind for good. But Lant knew it was happening a lot with them, even before this happened.

Nettle let the drapes fall again. She shook her head and looked apologetically at Kettricken and Bee. She doesn’t believe them, Lant thought.

Kettricken and Nettle exchanged another nod, and Kettricken spoke up. “We should settle for the night soon.”, her voice was loud and clear, cutting through the whispers of the road. “As soon as we can find a place big enough in the woods to stay. We cannot travel too much every day, it is risky enough as it is.” A soldier shouted orders and some scouts left riding ahead.

Lant led his horse in order to be riding behind the palanquin again. He tried to keep his face blank but his chest was hurting. Hurting to see this family, his family, falling apart like this. They all had been through enough, they didn’t need this kind of pain again. False hope. Postponing the inevitable. He was going to die. His daughters had suffered enough. Nettle. Bee. Poor little Bee, she had been through enough. Bee, that he hadn’t been able to protect. Bee, that he let down. By being a bullying teacher. By letting her be captured. By leaving her father for dead in that tunnel. Letting her father be infected by deadly worms. Lant had been there, he could have done something. He could have done more. He should have protected Fitz. He should have protected her. He should have been there for her. Instead of being lost in a ship, not even able to take care of Bee as they left Clerres. Not even able to comfort her. Not even present at court. Not even after. Not ever. 

Bee’s voice put a stop to his thought. Clear and high, as he never heard her speak as before. “She is telling the truth,” she said as she rose a little pink hand to point at the sleigh. “Amber. He is back.”

Everyone turned to her in shock. Bee’s eyes were wide and dark. Her eyes roamed everyone’s face, her brows furrowed, as if she was accusing them. Daring them to not believe her, just like they didn’t believe Amber. “Wolf Father told me,” she finally said, very simply. Then she turned and hid her face in Kettricken’s furs. Lant led his horse close again, turning to Nettle to ask what he should do. He saw on her face multiple emotions flickering. Hope. Sadness. Jealousy. Grief.

Making Lant and Nettle jump, Amber lifted the drape of the palanquin and let their face be seen. They wore a cocky grin as they shouted. “I told you! He lives!”

* * *

Lant sat down by one of the big fires that they had erected in the forest, a bowl of light bitter tea in his hand. He was tired. Even though they hadn't been riding long today, or even the previous days. They had been travelling this damned black road for a week. Kettricken had said they would be off it tomorrow, but Lant was still restless. He had started to see shapes now, walking among them, setting the hair on his arms to rise. 

After the big announcement made by Amber and Bee, Nettle had gotten a hold of herself and started her duties as Skillmistress again. She had given this light tea to mostly everyone, even to her coterie fellows and apprentices. Amber had been adamant on not having some, nor giving any to Fitz, saying they were healing him. This foolish family stubbornness extended to Bee. Which led to a huge and stormy fight between the two sisters. Lant even heard insults. Even Kettricken, usually in Bee’s good graces, hadn’t been able to help Nettle. Only Perseverance calmed Bee. Lant didn’t quite exactly hear what the boy said, but he talked about his fear of her becoming mad, like back there, and Bee drank the tea after all. 

She still showed her disagreements with adults by leaving Kettricken’s horse to ride in front of Per. To Lant, that was the best idea anyone could have and the best thing that happened today. The kid had been proud and riding like he was the most important knight of the kingdom. For at least five minutes. Then the two youngsters kept a constant - though quiet - chatter all afternoon. Lant even heard Bee laugh twice.

Lant had taken advantage of the reprieve to go see Nettle. 

“Don’t take it personally,” he advised. “She has been through rough things, she won’t be agreeing to anything that might alter her capabilities or thoughts.”

Nettle had given him a small smile. “I try to remember that, but I have to take care of her. She is strong with the Skill.” She lowered her voice “And this road is very dangerous. Almost as dangerous as the Skill Pillars. I don’t want to lose her or have her losing her mind and becoming a half-wit.”

Lant had huffed a small laugh and warned, “We all thought that was what she was in the first place. And you wouldn’t say that about our friend Thick right? Listen. I know the girl. She’s as stubborn as you but also as tough.”

“That’s clearly one of the problems,” had said Nettle. “I don’t know the girl. She’s my little sister. I tried but I can’t seem to be able to talk to her without raising hell.” Nettle’s voice broke and tears pooled in her eyes. “She shouldn’t have to be tough anymore. I was in charge of her, she was supposed to stay safe and happy in Buckkeep.”

Lant had led his horse as close to Nettle’s as he could and took her hand. “Their escape is the only reason why Fitz and Amber are alive now. Besides, Kettricken is in charge of her education now. You don’t have to be the rough teacher anymore. Let Kettricken handle that. Be the cool sister now. Have fun.”

To Lant’s pleasure, Nettle had laughed. It was small, and sad, but still a laugh. SHe smiled at him, a real smile. 

“You’re right. I am becoming like my father, Burrich. You never met him. I am way too stressed about too many things. Like him, I want the people I love to be safe and accepted. But, sisters, right. They drive you crazy!”

“Yeah...” growled Lant. “Crazy.” He had grimaced and left her side.

* * *

Lant was sitting watching the fire and drinking a light tea when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. Instinctively, he winced until he recognized the person’s presence. Spark sat next to him, legs crossed so that her knees and shoulders were touching Lant’s. 

“Good evening, lover,” he whispered. Spark let out a small laugh and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Hey bastard,” she replied.

He took her hand in his. She had small hands, but not fragile. Both of their palms had calluses now, but hers had seen more use than his. And more scars.

“How do you like the tea,” she inquired. “I personally hate it. I added a little bit of something of mine to spice it up. Do you want some too?”

Lant cocked his head closer to hers and asked, “Spiced for what? Are you thinking about that now? I noticed the bushes are thicker on the west of the camp.” He stopped talking to kiss her on the mouth. She bent her head to lead the kiss to something deeper, then broke it off.

“No,” she laughed. “It is something so I can sleep better, actually. I figured you could have use of it too.”

Lant grinned and kissed her again.

“Thank you for thinking about me. I’d like that spice, yes.” He threaded his fingers with Spark’s. “I wouldn’t mind a little trip by the small stream I heard behind the bushes… Figures a bath could help us sleep too.”

Spark pinched his cheek and leaned until her upper body rested almost completely on him. “What are you doing here alone anyway,” she asked. “Are you watching over the little lioness?”

“Yes,” replied Lant. He showed a small bundle of two kids sitting not too far away. “Kettricken was with them, but she left Bee in Perseverance’s care because she had to talk to the soldiers and organize camp and the rest of the trip. I think she went on a watch of her own too.” He grimaced. “Nettle has a hard time communicating with Amber. At least both parties listen to Kettricken.”

“It makes sense, I guess,” chimed in Spark. “Kettricken was with them when they first came here with King Verity to wake the dragons. She and Amber must be close, they have known each other for, how many decades?”

Lant hummed and thought about what to say while gently stroking both of Spark’s arms. 

“Well,” he finally said. “You do know a lot about them.”

Spark smirked. 

“Are you worried?” Lant asked, pulling Spark closer to him. “Are you worried for them?”

Spark smirk grew wider and she kissed Lant in the neck. 

“Of course I do,” she replied. “I always do. But somehow, not really. This person stole from a whole city of dragons and elderlings, got chased, and escaped while being blind. Why worry about little worms when they gave little thought to the big ones?” 

Lant laughed and Spark joined him. Then suddenly, Spark shushed him.  
“Hush! Kettricken is back! I want to hear what they say! Pretend we’re making out.”

Lant smiled fondly and complied, making himself very busy by kissing Spark. But he opened his ears. He was curious too. Anxious. The previous Queen came by the fire. She was standing tall despite her old age, shoulders only a bit slumped. She was wearing a big coat of pale furs that looked quite heavy and hid what she was wearing under it. Lant guessed it was not a pretty dress but surely a simple riding outfit. Kettricken had never needed clothes to appear regal. Even now, no circlet was around her brow. Just neat, blond braids, streaked with grey.

“Bee?” Kettricken called.

Bee raised her head from Perseverance’s knees. She had been lying in his arms. She just stared at Kettricken but when the older woman sat in front of her, Bee turned her head as if to avoid eye contact or direct face to face interactions.

“How is he?” the little girl asked. “When can I see him?”

“He is breathing steadily but still sleeping,” answered Kettricken. “The Fool succeeded in making him drink some tea I gave. I hope it will help with the worms. Stop the spreading.”

Bee noded. Such crude things to say to a kid. But that was Kettricken’s style. Of course she would have been bluntly honest. Looking at this old Queen, sitting in the dirt with a strange pale child and a stableboy, Lant’s heart pinched a little, even though he could not guess why.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks dear ArsMatron and Xupzies for beta-ing. Please check their work at [Ars_Matron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ars_Matron)


End file.
